


"Are you... Different?"

by Pastelbees



Series: Literally giving everyone my disabilities [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: I'm tired and going through bad memories so here have some bs, Kid Fic, Misophonia, Neurodivergent Sam, Poetry, Self harm tw in the last couple lines, Teenage/child sam, Trans Sam, religion tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 07:10:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8195417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastelbees/pseuds/Pastelbees
Summary: Sam walked into church like he walked into battle





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title from this one time...

Sam walked into church like he walked into battle  
The armor of God was a passage he knew all to well  
Headphones, a leather jacket, the silence accompanying fear  
a modern day protection from himself, others, and the danger accompanying both.  
His hands he kept in his pockets, eyes trained on whichever friend who's house he'd stayed at the night before,  
The one who's mother woke him at 8,  
Shoved the tiny green King James in his hand like she was presenting him with God Himself in this misinterpretation.  
That friend.  
He nodded politely, fiddled with short hair.  
"Who is your friend here Michaela?"  
He knew the drill.  
Smile at the stranger,  
Nod at the stranger.  
"No ma'am I don't go to church around here."  
Smile at the stranger,  
Nod at the stranger.  
"Yes sir I do go to church, not around here."  
Smile at the stranger,  
Nod at the stranger.  
"Yes pastor my dad goes to church."  
Smile.  
Nod.  
"She would if she weren't dead, sir."  
Silence gone, hands still in pockets, he held his fear in his eyes instead of his mouth,  
kept them wide so it might clear his vision and protect him from hugs from people he'd never seen before.  
When the pastor sniffed the whole way through the sermon,  
when he couldn't wear his earbuds, he held his anger on his finger tips,  
leaving it in his skin with each scratch,  
Distract from the sound not the sinner.  
-


End file.
